


The Largest Suspension Bridge

by goldenraeofsun



Series: The Greatest City in the World [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Police Officer Bucky, Police Officer Natasha, Runner Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenraeofsun/pseuds/goldenraeofsun
Summary: “You should ask him out,” Nat said out of nowhere as the runner that had been catching Bucky’s attention for the past two weeks disappeared around the Manhattan-side tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.“No,” Bucky said flatly as he shifted against their patrol car and squinted at a group of tourists standing in the middle of the bike lane.“Why not?” Nat flipped her aviators up into her hair so that her green eyes could properly glare at him. “You’d better hurry up and put your ass in gear, Barnes, or he’s going to catch onto your staring and think it’s creepy instead of flattering.”





	The Largest Suspension Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> aka: Steve would run 3,641 feet, and would run 3,641 more to fall down at Bucky's [patrol car] door.
> 
> Sincere thanks to my beta, Hannah, for her support and patience with my typos!

“You should ask him out,” Nat said out of nowhere as the runner that had been catching Bucky’s attention for the past two weeks disappeared around the Manhattan-side tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.

“No,” Bucky said flatly as he shifted against their patrol car and squinted at a group of tourists.

“Why not?” Nat flipped her aviators up into her hair so that her green eyes could properly glare at him. “You’d better hurry up and put your ass in gear, Barnes, or he’s going to catch onto your staring and think it’s creepy instead of flattering.”

Bucky flushed. “I can’t help it,” he whined under his breath. “Did you see his ass?”

“I’m taken, not blind,” Nat sniffed. “I’m not saying you have bad taste. I’m saying that the pining is getting old. The height of tourist season is almost here – what if he changes his route to avoid the crowds? You’ll miss your chance.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s probably for the best. He’s distracting me from my job.”

Nat pulled a face. “You’re being ridiculous. You know the Captain gave us this beat as punishment. There’s _nothing_ to do at this hour,” she declared as she dropped her sunglasses back on her face and pushed off from their patrol car to face him fully.

Nat and Bucky had been marooned on the Bridge for the past two weeks, a reprimand from Captain Fury for fucking up the paperwork and mismanaging the arrests on their latest drug case. Bucky didn’t blame Fury – he was only responding to Police Chief Pierce who had pitched a very manly bitch fit when he found out what Bucky and Nat had done. Bucky would swear up and down on any bible they shoved under his nose that he and Nat had made honest mistakes when they were scrambling to fill out the records at 3am and juggle the interrogations of the five suspects. It wasn’t the first time overworked detectives produced shoddy work.

And if Pierce could no longer use their case to push through some very suspect Stop-and-Frisk-in-all-but-name legislation, well that was just an added bonus.

So they found themselves stationed on the Brooklyn Bridge from 6-8 every morning to watch the early runners and bikers get their cardio in before the tourists swarmed in and made navigation impossible.

“He’s a stranger,” Bucky argued, a pathetic defense even in his own opinion.

“So?”

“You taught stranger danger to kindergarteners last week!” Bucky exclaimed, hands in the air to emphasize his point.

Nat punched him in the arm. “I think you’re a little more capable of taking care of yourself than a five-year-old.”

Bucky didn’t have anything more mature to say than, “Fuck off,” so he kept his mouth shut and glowered at her instead.

“Tell you what, if you don’t ask him out, I’ll do it for you,” Nat threatened. “There’s no reason to get back out there. Hot Runner seems like a nice guy. Worst he can say is no.”

Bucky frowned at her. “Not all hot people are nice,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Exhibit A,” he concluded, dramatically gesturing in her direction with an outstretched arm.

Nat ignored Bucky’s slight, as she knew as well as he did that she could be a piece of work if given the right provocation. Bucky still had a scar on his shin from when she got into a barfight over cheap vodka and barfly that called her an uptight bitch when she wouldn’t talk to him.  

“Last Monday, I saw him stop to give directions to an old Chinese lady and take two photos for tourists,” she said instead.

Bucky frowned. “Where was I?”

“With Clint in the ER.” Nat paused. “It was adorable. Almost made my cold Soviet heart melt.”

“I bet it did,” Bucky muttered. “And nobody believes you’re KGB. They disbanded in the 90s.”

Nat just glared.

Bucky sighed and peered down the bridge.

“It’s only been five minutes,” Nat said as she reached in the open window of their patrol car and grabbed her now lukewarm coffee. “Give him another five before he doubles back.”

Caught, Bucky flushed and straightened up.

“You’re pathetic,” Nat said despondently. “It’s like you want to be alone and unhappy forever.”

“You are such a great wing woman,” Bucky drawled as he tilted his face up and closed his eyes to bask in the early summer sun just starting to beat down on them before what promised to be a truly brutal day in a full police uniform.

Nat shifted against his side, probably putting her coffee back away for later consumption. “I just want you to be happy,” she said quietly. “You can start small – ask out a hot stranger. No pressure, anyway. We’re off this beat on the 15th. You’ll never have to see him again. If he turns you down, I’ll even let you keep the AC on when you hide in the car when he runs past.”

Bucky lazily rolled his head in her direction. “He’s exercising, Nat. Nobody wants to be asked out while exercising and all sweaty and stuff. I don’t even know if he’s single. Or into men.”

Nat frowned. “Anyone who wears shirts that tight ranks on the Kinsey scale,” she argued slowly. “He’s risking serious chafing running around like that. Trust me, he wants to catch someone’s eye.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Probably not mine,” Bucky muttered before he could stop himself.

“Stop putting yourself down. There’s a reason strippers dress up like police,” Nat said breezily. “The uniform is hot.”

Bucky sighed. “Maybe he cares about what’s on the inside, and not what I’m wearing. Ever think about that?”

“Even more of a reason for him to say yes, Mr. I-Volunteer-to-Teach-Kindergarteners-Stranger-Danger,” Nat said triumphantly. “Look, here he comes now.”

And yes, there he was, all but sprinting up the bridge from the Manhattan side. Sweat was beading down his face, and there were damp circles under his armpits. His grey gym shirt was plastered to his torso, leaving nothing to the imagination. His face had reddened from the sun and exercise, eyes narrowed in concentration as he dodged tourists and bikers. Of course, he was still the hottest man Bucky had seen in a long time, and he’d seen a lot of people from his assigned post on the summer tourist trap that was the Brooklyn Bridge.

As Hot Runner passed them by, he raised his hand in a customary wave, neatly dodging out of the way of an incoming biker who was in the wrong lane.

Bucky lamely waved back, hiding his wince as Nat viciously elbowed him in the ribs.

“That was your chance,” she hissed.

“He doesn’t want to be bothered,” Bucky retorted. “Leave it.”

But Natasha Romanoff had a will stronger than the gales of a Siberian winter, so _leaving it_ wasn’t really an option.

* * *

Bucky saw her open her mouth and cut her off with a swift, “Fuck off Nat,” as Hot Runner once again passed them by a week later.

Nat huffed out an angry breath. “It’s like you want him to be the one who got away.”

“It’s a passing crush on a stranger,” Bucky said, exasperated. “We’re not star-crossed lovers.”

“You might as well be, for all the pining you’ve been doing,” Nat pointed out.

Bucky sighed.

“You can’t be a lonely spinster forever, Barnes.”

“Watch me.”

“The blue balls alone will kill you sooner rather than later,” Nat wheedled.

“Let me worry about my balls, Nat,” Bucky muttered. “Just, mind your own business, okay?”

Nat crossed her arms across her chest. “No, not okay. You’re my partner. We look out for each other.”

“We’re work partners,” Bucky huffed.

“I went to your parents’ for Thanksgiving. You made me go shopping with you for your sister’s wedding present. You know my real age. I think we’re way past work partners, Barnes.” Her gaze softened as she let her arms fall to her sides. “They’re not all going to turn out like Brock.”

Bucky stayed silent, stewing in the bitterness from his last relationship.

Nat smiled, cold and a little terrifying. “I have connections on Riker’s. Just say the word, and I can cut off his soap and cigarettes with one quick phone call.”

“That’s illegal,” Bucky reminded her.

“That’s karma,” Nat said, waving her hand.

Bucky smiled despite himself. “I think all the karma he needs for fucking with me is 5 to 10 with all of his drug buddies he screwed over at the same time.”

Nat shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned her head, glancing towards the Manhattan side of the bridge, but there was no sign of Hot Runner yet.

“How’s Sharon?”

“Still the best DA in the tristate area,” Nat said with a grin. “That subpoena came through yesterday, so she’s totally with us once we get the okay from Fury. Zola won’t know what hit him.”

“Good,” Bucky said with vehemence. “And are you down for late night Chinese on Sunday? Fingers crossed we get a shit-ton of evidence that we’ll have to catalogue.”

Nat frowned. “Date night with Sharon,” she said, her expression genuinely remorseful. “I could stay late on Monday?”

Bucky nodded to himself. “That’s fine,” he said.

“Great!” Nat said with uncharacteristic cheer. “That means you’re free for a date with Hot Runner on Sunday.”

Bucky groaned, “Give it up. It’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Nat said as she jerked her head towards the tower where, sure enough, Hot Runner was making his speedy way out of its shadow.

Bucky’s throat went dry.

Hot Runner waved.

Bucky managed something like a smile in return.

Nat sighed like she was bearing the weight of the world on her slim shoulders. “Seriously, I will flag him down for you,” she said once he was out of earshot. “This is getting so old, Barnes.”

Bucky pushed his sunglasses up higher on his nose and watched as a young Australian couple with huge backpacks attempted to take a selfie with a good view of the downtown Manhattan skyline. Their sleeping bags strapped to their shoulders kept getting in the way.

Nat opened her mouth but got distracted by a commotion near the Brooklyn end of the bridge. Shouts reached their ears, and a couple of tourists were peering curiously in their direction. “What do you think, rogue street performer?” Bucky asked as he pushed himself off the side of his patrol car.

Nat shrugged and double checked that the car was locked before taking off after him at a swift walk.

Tourists parted for New York City’s finest like the Red Sea, smart phones already out and recording. They vacillated between staring at Bucky and Nat stalk closer and the center of the disturbance – Hot Runner and some scruffy looking guy in a dirty white shirt and cargo shorts.

Bucky’s heart sank in his chest as he took in Hot Runner’s bruising grip on the other guy’s wrists. Hot Runner had him down on his knees, hands pinned behind his back. His knees and elbows had several scrapes.

“Alright, what happened?” Nat asked, ever the professional. Then again, she was suitably domestic with Sharon and hadn’t been panting after the guy they were probably going to arrest for assault within the next ten minutes.

Bucky frowned as Hot Runner let the man get to his feet.

“This man,” Hot Runner began, and Bucky squashed down his appreciation at Hot Runner’s lovely voice, “attempted to rob this lady.” He gestured to one of the many tourists standing by, a teenage girl in bright red cutoff shorts and a flowery headband.

“Is this true?” Nat asked, pulling out her notepad.

The general crowd tittered murmurs of assent.

“He grabbed my phone first,” the girl said, holding out an iPhone in a scarlet case. “Then lifted my purse.”

Bucky glanced at Hot Runner, who was nodding solemnly along with her story.

The girl fidgeted with a lock of her long brown hair, twirling it around and around her index finger. “I yelled at him to stop and tried to get them back, but then this guy,” she continued, gesturing towards Hot Runner, “ran after him and caught him.” She smiled at Hot Runner, who relaxed his rigid posture a fraction. “He got my stuff back.”

“What a good Samaritan,” Nat murmured, shooting Bucky a significant look as she continued to scribble down the girl’s statement.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he said as he started forward. “Is that it?” he asked her.

The girl shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Great,” Bucky said as he began waving his hands at the crowd. “Alright, get a move on. You’re blocking traffic.” He attempted to move the tourists away from the bike lane, at least. That was just what he needed on top of this, some poor European idiot getting run over by an irate New Yorker on a CitiBike.

“Barnes, go get the runner’s statement,” Nat ordered loudly.

Bucky was very tempted to give her the finger in front of everyone.

With a sigh, he walked over to Hot Runner, who was looking incredibly earnest for someone so large. God help him, he was still sweating lightly.

Bucky pulled out his own notepad, feeling especially useless. Nat’s gaze was heavy on the back of his neck. “Okay, I’ll need your statement again. Name?”

“Steve Rogers,” Hot Runner said promptly. “And it’s as she said. I heard her shouting and saw the guy taking off down the bridge.” Here he paused, blushing adorably. “But I’m training for the marathon, so it was no trouble to overtake him and return her things.”

Bucky finished copying down his words and looked up. “Smart guy, robbing her with only one exit plan.”

Steve grinned. “It did make catching him easy.”

Bucky swallowed and offered a small smile in return. “Well, thanks for doing my job for me,” he said. “I’ll leave catching the bad guys up to you, and I’ll keep the coffee and bagels for myself.”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, grimacing as his fingers came away sweaty. “It was no trouble,” he repeated.

“Still, thanks,” Bucky said. “We appreciate it.” He glanced behind him, where Nat was murmuring to the girl. She had already handcuffed the would-be mugger, who was standing awkwardly off to the side, still within Nat’s field of vision.

Hot Runner checked his watch.

Bucky inhaled sharply, and Steve looked up. “I – you’re free to go, yeah,” he said, flushing a little at his word fumble. “I’ve got your statement, and this looks like an open and shut case.”

“Oh great,” Steve said. “I’ll, uh, just go then?” he asked tentatively.

“Hold on!” Nat called from behind them, and Bucky internally cursed her bat-like hearing. “Barnes’ll need your number if we need to contact you about the incident.”

Bucky glanced over his shoulder to glare at her, trying to convey how much he wanted to throw her off the bridge. By her unrepentantly pointed gaze back, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Steve coughed, and Bucky turned back to him, pen poised.

“It’s 718-978-0826,” Steve said, carefully pausing between the numbers to make sure Bucky got everything down correctly. “I’m, uh, usually at work from nine to five, but I’ll be back home other than that.”

Bucky said reassuringly, “Privately, I’ll let you know that it’s very unlikely that we’ll call you for any follow ups. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh,” Steve said, standing a little straighter as his eyes went a little distant. “That’s fine. I want to do everything I can to help.”

“Of course you do,” Bucky said under his breath, half-despairingly. His reasons for not asking out Hot Runner were dwindling by the second. By all accounts, _good Samaritan_ didn’t even begin to cover it. The corner of Bucky’s mouth lifted into a half smile. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a warm smile of his own. He waved as he took off towards Brooklyn, leaving Bucky feeling strangely bereft as he watched him go.

* * *

An hour into their patrol the next morning, and Nat was giving him the silent treatment. He had told her in no uncertain terms yesterday morning that he wouldn’t use Steve’s number that he had gotten under official business for his own personal agenda.

Nat had told him to stick his agenda where the sun didn’t shine.

It looked to be the start of a beautiful day. Steve had already gone on his run.

The tourists were out early this Saturday morning, and they’d already seen their first Chinese tour group, red flags raised high in the air.

Nat took a big bite of her bagel, glaring at him as she wiped away excess cream cheese from the corner of her mouth.

“You missed a spot,” Bucky said just to be a jackass because, as usual, her face was flawless except for her magnificent scowl.

Nat turned her back on him to squint at a highly suspect group of middle-aged women wearing their backpacks on their chests and wide-brimmed floppy hats.

“Don’t sulk. It’s unbecoming,” Bucky sniped.

Nat let out a loud sigh and brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not sulking,” she told him sternly. “I am mourning the loss of your balls.”

“They’re just fine," Bucky said shortly. " But thanks for the concern.”

Nat’s mouth screwed up into a frown. “I get that Brock fucked you up – really I do. But you can’t let that hold you back.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped, his bravado draining out of him like a wrung dishrag. “I – I’m just trying to be careful, you know?” he said quietly. “I’m done picking up strangers in bars. Brock, Dottie, Jack, I met all of them without knowing anything about them and it bit me in the ass.” Bucky shrugged. “And I hate being set up and the pressure of blind dates, so I’m kind of fucked.”

Nat agreed, lips pursed, “Looks like a no-win situation there.”

Bucky picked at a stray thread poking out of his sleeve. “Uh huh.”

“So lesser of two evils?” Nat proposed. “I can vet Steve, if you like. I’d be more than happy to run a background check and interview his neighbors. See what skeletons he’s hiding in the closet.”

Bucky groaned. “Why do I have the feeling you’ve already done that?”

Nat merely smirked. “Not the neighbors. That’s third date stuff.”

“I feel so reassured.”

“He’s got no prior convictions,” Nat said, and there was a slant in her tone that made Bucky snap to attention.

“No convictions?" Bucky asked, eyebrows raised. "Does he have any arrests?”

“Ah,” Nat began. “Yeah, he has a couple of those.”

“See?” Bucky exclaimed. “He’s a bad egg. I knew it.”

Nat snorted. “I swear, you talk like a grumpy grandpa sometimes. He’s not a bad guy from what I saw. Cooperated with law enforcement, even when they were arresting him at a White Nationalist rally upstate.”

Bucky’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What the hell? White nationalists are fucking Nazis, Nat. if he’s a white nationalist, I’m not going within three feet of him.”

Nat waved off Bucky’s, objections as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “I mean, anyone who knocks out three supremacists before the police can swoop in is a low-key hero in my book,” she continued Bucky calmed down from his almost-heart attack.

“His last arrest was for punching a literal Nazi in the face,” Bucky asked blankly.

“Three of them,” Nat confirmed. “The police report said he knocked them out cold within a minute. Merciful, really.”

“You’re kidding,” Bucky said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“The white supremacists didn’t press charges – probably didn’t want the media hounding down their necks,” Nat finished. “So Steve Rogers has no convictions.”

Bucky mulled that over.

“You just need to be smarter about who you choose,” Nat continued, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know you like to keep to yourself about most things – really, I know that feeling – but maybe not with this? I don’t want to hear about your sex life or what you ate for breakfast, but it wouldn’t hurt to bring your boyfriend or girlfriend around sometime. I think with the Brock, at least, you fell so hard so fast, by the time we met him you wouldn’t hear a word against him.”

Bucky nodded, throat tight. His relationship with Brock had been a whirlwind of sex, alcohol, and, though Bucky didn’t know about the last one, drugs. After a year, Bucky had tried to end it when Brock stashed evidence at Bucky’s apartment, and really ended it when Brock used Bucky’s position at the precinct to weasel out of his possession charge.

“Steve’s going to be different,” Nat said firmly. “I think he’ll be good for you.”

Bucky huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Okay. I’ll ask him out tomorrow, alright?”

Nat blinked, and her gaze shifted to back over his shoulder, towards the Brooklyn end of the bridge. “I don’t think you need to wait that long,” she said slyly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bucky ground out under his breath as he turned his head to squint down the ramp. “Seriously?”

“Looks like Hot Runner had the same idea as you,” Nat said, a slow smile spreading across her face.

Bucky watched, not a little incredulously, as Steve made his way towards them. It was the first time Bucky got to see him in something other than exercise clothes, and luckily he had enough restraint not to whistle at the sight. Steve’s hair was combed back from his face, and for once he wasn’t panting with exertion. He was still a bit red around the cheeks, though. His face was a picture of determination.

When Steve caught him unabashedly staring, he gave his characteristic wave, and Bucky just waved back like a moron.

“Hi,” Steve said as he stopped in front of their patrol car.

“Hi,” Nat said as Bucky found himself scrambling for a proper salutation. “I’m just going to admire the view, you know.” She pointed over her shoulder towards the other side of the tower. “Over there.”

Steve laughed as she spun on her heel and strode away like a model on the catwalk. “Hi,” he repeated as he found himself alone with Bucky. Or as alone as they could be at one of the biggest tourist attractions of the city.

“Hey,” Bucky said, blinking a little dazedly and still not wholly convinced Steve was really right in front of him. “What’re you doing here?”

Steve licked his lips and stood to his full impressive height. “I know I’m interrupting you at work, so I’ll be brief: would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Although he had almost expected something along those lines, Steve’s request still mostly caught him off guard. Gaping, Bucky just blinked at him for a moment before giving a quick series of nods.

Steve beamed.

“I’d, uh, like that a lot,” Bucky said haltingly.

Steve let out a relieved sigh as he moved a half step closer, out of the way of some American tourists who, for some inexplicable reason, thought that walking three abreast was a perfectly acceptable way to travel. “I’m really sorry for bothering you – if I knew where to catch you off hours, I’d ask you out then.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, eyes narrowed.

“Sure,” Steve said. “I mean, after a lot of admiring from afar, probably.” He snapped his mouth shut, looking a little mortified.

Bucky snorted and mumbled something along the lines of, “likely story.”

Evidently, he wasn’t quiet enough for Steve. He rolled his eyes. “Well, yes. Why do you think I slowed down in the middle of the bridge every time?”

Bucky titled his head as he studied Steve appreciatively. “That was you slowed down?”

Steve shrugged. “I haven’t had a personal best all summer thanks to you. So? Dinner? I – uh, don’t know what kind of schedule police officers keep, but I’m free-”

“Sunday?” Bucky offered before he could stop himself.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

Bucky swallowed. “Well, I already have your number.”

“But I don’t have yours,” Steve said, looking a little surprised at his own smoothness.

“Give me your phone,” Bucky said as he held out his hand and put in his cell phone number.

“Bucky Barnes?” Steve read aloud as he reviewed Bucky’s new contact information.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Bucky confirmed, a little bemused.

Steve chuckled. “I didn’t know your name before. Your partner just called you ‘Barnes.’”

Bucky frowned. “If you want to get technical, my first name is James, but I won’t respond to it. Nat hates the name Bucky, so she just calls me Barnes. I swear I’m not pulling your leg. I go by Bucky.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Bucky,” Steve said cheerfully as he pocketed his phone.

Like a bird of prey with impeccable timing, Nat swooped in out of nowhere to appear at Bucky’s elbow. “You boys sorted yourselves out?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes?” Steve asked, glancing sideways at Bucky who said, “We have a date Sunday. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Nat deadpanned. She glanced between the two of them. “Kiss him and get on with it,” she said with a regal wave of her hand. “We’ve got a job to do. Those tourists won’t just give themselves directions.”

Steve kind of shuffled forward, side-eying Nat and clearly uncomfortable at the audience. Bucky snorted – Nat had seen him do far worse. She had wiped away his blood after a suspect broke his nose; she had pulled him off Brock when they were getting particularly handsy in the back of a bar when they were supposed to be socializing; and once she had even kissed him when they were undercover.

“Go away, Nat,” Bucky said forcefully as he took a deliberate step closer to Steve.

“No,” she said mulishly. “I worked hard for this. I’m going to reap the fruits of my labor, thank you very much.”

Steve tossed him a questioning look, and Bucky flushed. “You badgered me for a month," he told her seriously, "You always badger me. It’s less of a labor and more of a lifestyle.”

“Still.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve, silently asking for permission. He’d be perfectly happy fucking over Nat and never showing an ounce of PDA with Steve in her presence for however long their relationship lasted. But he’d also been imagining kissing Steve for the past month, so he was more than a little torn.

Steve answered his unasked question by wrapping a muscled arm around his waist and pulling him in for the most dramatic kiss of his life. Steve leaned forward, raising his other hand to cradle Bucky’s head and forcing him into a light dip. Steve’s lips pressed firmly against his, soft but insistent. It was the perfect 50s-movie climax kiss, no confusing waggle of tongues, just a meeting of lips and breath.

When Bucky surfaced, he gaped at Steve, eyes wide and mouth still partly open. It was his first kiss in a long while that didn’t have the haze of alcohol.

Steve shrugged, looking deservedly smug. “She wanted a show,” he explained.

Nat snickered. “Yeah, he’s a good one.”

Behind them, the telltale snick of some tourist’s camera phone went off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE  
> 1867-1883
> 
> THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE, THE LARGEST SUSPENSION BRIDGE IN THE WORLD AT THE TIME IT WAS BUILT, WAS THE FIRST TO SPAN THE EAST RIVER. DESIGNED AND CONSTRUCTED BY JOHN A. ROEBLING AND HIS SON, WASHINGTON A. ROEBLING, THE BRIDGE SPANS 3,461 FEET AND RISES 133 FEET FROM THE RIVER BELOW. THE STEEL CABLEWORK, STRUNG ACROSS TWO MONUMENTAL STONE TOWERS, IS FIXED AT BOTH ENDS IN STONE ANCHORAGES. THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE, A STRUCTURE OF BEAUTY, WAS A MILESTONE IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICAN ENGINEERING.
> 
> \- New York Landmarks Preservation Foundation, 1991


End file.
